


Star-Crossed Bros

by keysburg, lillianfromaccounting



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alien Abduction, Cool Cars, Gen, Kree (Marvel), Lola has a friend, diners and deserts, earth whiskey is the best whiskey, everything's better with gadgets, gratuitious 80s references, oops i did it again, space bros, succubus Kree, sunrises are better than sunsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4415231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysburg/pseuds/keysburg, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillianfromaccounting/pseuds/lillianfromaccounting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Steve Rogers is out of his depth when he's abducted by aliens.  Fortunately, fate will have him meet another capable (if annoying) man out of time. </p>
<p>Takes place sometime between Agents of Shield Episodes 2.12 and 2.15</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jul-Sarr walked into the bar and was immediately glad she had dressed way down for this meeting. She couldn’t blame Bav-mek for wanting to meet somewhere quiet and out of the way, since he was an important advisor and strategist in the Kree Empire’s military council, and their current project wasn’t exactly sanctioned. But this place was just...dirty. When she spotted him at a table in the corner, she walked with purpose, not making eye contact with any of the patrons. Eye contact in a place like this could be construed as an invitation… and there was nothing here she wanted to invite. She sat down across from Bav-mek, who had his hand around a dirty glass that was only half full of something murky. 

“Well-met!” he said, raising his glass to her. “How are things over in Scientific Development?” 

“You know very well I can’t answer that,” she said. She was a member of biological weapon development for the military council, and all her projects were need-to-know. Bav knew this but seemed to like bringing up the fact that he knew something about her that no one beside her direct coworkers also knew. Again she cursed whoever arranged her to be partnered with this glad-handing political fool. All their teammates were supposedly members of the Kree government unhappy with the newer, softer party line, but they were arranged in cells for security. Bav-mek had access to information she and others needed, but it was painful for her to act as his partner or more accurately his handler for Objective Dominance. If she couldn’t use his information directly, she passed it up the chain; the fool was not even trusted with that simple a task. “I assume you have new information if you wanted to meet.”

“Do I!” he grinned. He enjoyed needling her a little too much. “You know that Vin-tak is newly returned from Terra, with no memory, a victim of his own weapon?” She nodded at him. Vin-tak supported those who had stopped experimentation on sentient life forms. He was soft, and maybe stupid. Either the Terrans had gotten the best of him or he did something dumb, but either way he was returned by way of an Asgardian, resulting in all sorts of rumors. “Well, I found out his mission, and then I managed to get my hands on some top secret intel involving the Terran experiments.” He looked at her expectantly, but she just raised an eyebrow until he went on. “He was supposed to remove the remaining Terrigen Mist containers from Terra. But apparently the experiment subjects have been breeding. And learned how to manufacture the mist themselves. Our other agents were unable to determine how many there were or how to locate them, but they exist.”

“This could be a major breakthrough for the project,” she said. “Apparently Terrans have evolved greatly since our ancestors began the experiments. Although they still have not developed interstellar travel, despite repeated and continued contact with the Asgardians.”

“You know those Asgardians. They’d rather play indifferent gods to Terra instead of using or applying their resources. Their strength enables their arrogance. One of many reasons our ancestors kept their experiments secret. But I’m not sure the existence of the experimental offspring is all that helpful since we don’t know where they are, or how to identify them among the six billion plus Terrans. They seem to have secreted themselves pretty well, as the general population is still unaware of them. What is general knowledge on Terra nowadays is almost as interesting though: they have been experimenting on themselves, and some of their own experiments have been just as successful at weaponizing individuals as ours.” Jul-Sarr looked at him, shock plain on her face. The Terrans were advancing quite well if they had succeeded in weaponizing any of their weak and inferior populace. Bav-mek had fallen silent, with a smug look on his face. She was going to have to flatter him if she wanted to hear the rest.

“Go on, my colleague. This news is most welcome. There will likely be a reward for you if it proves fruitful. You are quite clever to have gotten wind of this; we’ve heard no whisper of it in SciDev.” Bav seemed content with this.

“Apparently some time ago, one of the Asgardians decided he wasn’t satisfied with his place in society. He struck a deal with Thanos for…something, it is unclear. But Thanos provided him with an army of Chitari. An army the Terrans managed to repel. They had help from Thor Odinson, but the rest of the defense was completely Terran. They were partially aided by mechanical devices but also two altered individuals. The one they call the Hulk seems like he would be easy to track, since he’s huge, green, and prone to rage. But he’s also unstable and appears to have long dormant periods. The other is a more stable design, built specifically for Terran combat. They call him… Steven Rogers, and he’s a celebrity now on Terra.”

“Hmm. A single man optimized for Terran combat? The Terrans are generally as militant a culture as we are. How have they not capitalized on this success?”

“They have tried, to no avail. The Hulk is one example of their less successful attempts. Still, with Rogers as a sample, our more superior technology will likely be able to duplicate and optimize it...if you’re up to the task.” He smirked at her again. When he got like this, she often daydreamed of testing some of her infectious strains on him. 

“Well, we won’t know until I try. How do we find him, and capture him?”

“I know just the person for the job. He’s snatched people off Terra before. Assuming the rest of Objective Dominance thinks it’s worth pursuing, and doesn’t mind the means.”

“I don’t know why they’d start minding now. Get in contact with your agent. I’ll get the okay.” Jul was practically vibrating as she left the dingy bar, typing into an encrypted messaging program. Experimenting on a Terran would be a novel undertaking for her, a far cry from rearranging the DNA of single celled organisms in her approved work.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve took a sip of coffee from the plain white mug and set it back down on the table between him and Natasha. He leaned back into the cushy diner booth and stared out the window.

"That's remarkable," he mumbled, watching the sun set slowly over the vast desert. The pink and orange hues danced like flames at the horizon.

"It never gets old, does it?" Natasha asked.

"No."

"You know who else likes beautiful sunsets?"

Steve raised his eyebrows.

"Lips, from accounting," Natasha answered, "and you know, she doesn't wear the lip piercing all the time."

"Her name is Lillian," Steve said, "and she prefers sunrises."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. Her phone buzzed.

"It's time for me to go," she said. "Are you sure you'll be okay going to the site by yourself?"

"I can take care of myself and I have a map."

Outside the diner, Natasha got on her motorcycle and put her helmet on, "Stay out of trouble, Steve."

"You too. I'll see you in three days," he replied.

Steve climbed into the driver's side of a remodeled 1967 black Corvette stingray. It was such a clear night, he decided to leave the top down. He started the car and a voice came over the radio, “This is KISS-FM with your favorite oldies, and this is Blue Swede. Ooga chaka, ooga ooga ooga...” He turned onto the empty road with the sunset in the rearview mirror.

_Five days ago..._

Steve and Natasha walked into the war room where Phil Coulson was sitting at the head of the table. They each took a seat on either side of Clint Barton. Koenig walked up to the table and left badges for them.

_“Thank you all for coming in to this secured location,” Coulson said. “As you know, SHIELD came under attack from HYDRA a few months ago. My team and I have made some progress in rebuilding. In the meantime, there are still threats out there, and today, we are asking for your help. Your skills will tremendously help us further our mission.”_

_“Which is?” asked Steve._

_“To secure the safety of Earth,” Coulson replied._

_“What do you need?” Natasha asked._

_“We need you to retrieve some artifacts. Agent Lillian Luna will explain,” Coulson said, indicating towards the podium. Standing behind the podium was a woman wearing a grey dress suit that accentuated her curves. Her thick black horn rimmed glasses masked the fact that she isn’t wearing any makeup, but Steve’s eyes couldn’t get past the piercing on her very full bottom lip._

_Lillian swiped her tablet a few times and a world map came up on the projection screen._

_“When HYDRA attacked us, they did their best to either usurp or destroy our assets, including but not limited to, monetary funds, weapons, artifacts, real estate, vehicles, weapons...you get the idea. While their efforts were great, they weren’t nearly as thorough as they might have hoped. We have about half a dozen remaining artifacts out there that need to be retrieved before HYDRA realizes that they don’t have them in their current inventory. It’s a matter of time. The three we need your help in retrieving are at these locations.” Three pulsing dots marked two locations in Nevada and somewhere in Argentina._

_“Who’s going to Vegas?” Clint laughed._

_“Agent Romanoff,” Lillian replied. “Agent Barton, you will be going to the Argentina-Chile border and Captain will be going to Area 51.”_

_Steve pulled up to a complex and turned to another page in his notebook. Looking at his hand drawn map, he located the building that he wanted. Wearing the shield on his back, Steve found the entrance marked on the map and followed the directions to get in. The building looked like any warehouse or airplane hangar on the inside, wide open space with a few desks scattered about along the sides. Judging by the layer of dust on the various surfaces, no one or no things had been through here in decades. Despite the seemingly abandoned complex, Steve was cautious and stealthy. He got to the third level and walked up to desk number 42, in the center of the cluster, just as Lillian described._

He reached under the desk, far in and found the screw. He unscrewed it and re-screwed it into a notch that was three inches over. When the screw was secured, he heard a click coming from one of the drawers.

_Lillian took Steve’s hand and placed it on the handle of the second drawer. "This is the tricky part,” she explained, “Pull the second drawer out just far enough so you can reach the bottom of the top drawer. Feel for the button and push it away from you. You should hear a second click. The desk should be disarmed now. The artifact should be inside the bottom drawer.”_

Steve opened the bottom drawer. There were no explosions, so he took that as a good sign. Inside the large drawer was a small, ornately designed pill box. He picked up the box and placed it in the right side pocket of his suit. He closed the drawers in the reverse order that he opened them and quickly left the facility the same way he got in.

The Corvette, was exactly where he had parked it. He quickly changed out of the suit, secured the shield and pill box in the hidden compartment of the trunk, and started the engine. Sweet’s “Fox on the Run” came on “...you think you have a pretty face, but you looked okay before…”.

About a mile away from the facility, the radio began acting up, cutting in and out. Steve thought to himself how technology really hasn’t improved much and this satellite radio stuff wasn’t much better than the radio stations he used to listen to.

All of a sudden, blue light filled his vision and he could see nothing else. He immediately stepped on the brakes, but the car did not respond. He felt like the car was floating. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and braced himself for impact.

 _Lillian lay on a pillow next to Steve._  
_“It’s really hard to wake up and find out that your whole world has been turned upside down,” she said. “You don’t know who to trust...you don’t even trust yourself. You want to go back to sleep in hopes that this is all just a bad dream and that all you need to do is wake up from it...Steve, you need to wake up. Wake up, Steve...”_  
_“Steve, you need to wake up,” another familiar female voice said. Steve blinked and in Lillian’s place was a young Peggy Carter. “Steve, wake up!”_

Steve opened his eyes and inhaled deeply. It was very dark in the room, but there was light coming from the doorway. Steve allowed his eyes to adjust as he studied the room. He didn’t recognize the location and it was pretty obvious that he was bound and gagged. He looked around for anything that might help him get out, but there didn’t seem to be much around. There was a lot of commotion coming from behind that door. The only saving grace, Steve thought to himself, was that it sounded like English.


	3. Chapter 3

“YOU DID WHAT?” Peter Quill leapt out of his chair and onto his feet. Yondu never responded well to any kind of anger from him, but he was taken off guard. This was much, much worse than he had expected when Yondu summoned him back to the Eclector. 

“You heard me the first time, boy. This Kree fella I know wanted a certain Terran snatched. The client insists on delivery on Hala, and you know I’m not welcome back to Hala. So you’ll have to take him.” Yondu narrowed his eyes at Peter, who was still standing. “As I said in my message, this will erase the debt you’re owing me for that business with the Orb. You robbed me of a huge payday when you gave the Orb to the Xandarians, boy, and not just me. You robbed every man on this ship who followed you into battle against Ronin. And then there’s the blood price for all the men you lost me. I know you’ve gone soft lately, running around with that green girl, the little fuzzy guy and that tree, but it’s not like you gotta snatch him. He’s in the next room, and you just need to get him where he’s gotta go.”

“And if I refuse?” Peter sat back down. He already knew the answer.

“You probably reckon’ I won’t kill you since I’ve been such a nice guy in the past. And you’re probably right. But there’s 46 other men on this boat, and one a’them will. There’s no getting outta here without agreein’. It’s just a delivery, Peter. And you’ll be free to go hug that tree all you like when you’re done.” 

Just a delivery. Peter might be a thief who spent most of his life with the Ravagers, but he always detested and avoided their kidnapping jobs. As much as he tried to shove his feelings down, they always reminded of his own kidnapping, of his bumpy adjustment to life in space, and his mother’s death. He had grown to love life in space, but it certainly hadn’t started that way. That Yondu kidnapped another Terran was just salt in the wound. Terra at large had apparently recently become aware that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the galaxy, so this might not be as mindblowing an experience as it had been for Peter as a kid. But apparently their interactions with others had been limited to a few Asgardian visitors and a Chitari incursion. Who knew how he would react? And if the contractor for this job was Kree, he couldn’t want him for anything good.

“So, uh, what does this client of yours want a Terran for, anyway?” Peter tried to ask in a casual manner.

“Peter. You know I don’t ask questions I don’t need ta know about my jobs.” Yondu watched him carefully, but Peter was careful not to react. When he didn’t, Yondu leaned in and whispered. “But, in this case you’re lucky because Bav-mek can’t keep his stupid mouth shut. Apparently your cargo is some sort of souped-up Terran. Stronger, faster, maybe with more smarts than average. Apparently some sort of science experiment, and the Kree want to know how he got that way. You should just keep the stronger thing in mind though, make sure he doesn’t get the best of you.”

“And after I do this, you’ll forgive my debts and I’ll be free to go my own way? No more of these summons?” Peter asked. Yondu flashed his toothy grin.

“I get my payday and we’re square.” Peter eyed him. He didn’t believe Yondu, not totally, but he didn’t see where he had an option. At least not here and now on the Elector. As Peter knew all too well, time and space had a way of producing options. He couldn’t focus on that thought in front of Yondu, though. He made a show of grudgingly thinking the whole thing over. 

“I want another case of that Terran whiskey.” Peter said. “I know you can’t resist picking some up while you’re down there. What’d you get this time?”

“Oh, I don’t know if you’ll like it, Peter. We picked up something called Balvenie Caribbean Cask this time. Apparently aged in rum casks? It’s a bit sweet. I’ll give you half a case. I don’t want you wasting it if you don’t like it.”

“I’m not taking anything but a full case, Yondu.” This negotiation was old hat to both of them. It would probably end with them drinking a full bottle themselves to make sure it was “okay” and leaving Peter with a splitting headache in the morning. He thought of something else to ask before that happened. “The Kree gonna put a translator in that man’s head?”

“Oh, we already did that.” Yondu said. “It makes it so much easier to explain where to piss. We should probably check on him about now. Remember what I told you about him being strong. And then we’re going to try that whiskey, make sure it’s okay.” Peter wasn’t looking forward to meeting this guy, or his upcoming hangover, but he got up to follow Yondu into containment.


	4. Chapter 4

These ties must be made of some new technology, Steve thought to himself. He had been working on them for at least half an hour and nothing seemed to be breaking or loosening them. Stark should know about this material. I should bring some back with me so he can research it. He heard noises like someone was approaching. Deep breaths. Stay calm. Close your eyes. Pretend you’re still knocked out.

The entrance made a whoosh noise as it opened, like an automatic door.

"He doesn't look that much stronger or faster. I mean, you guys caught him, so he couldn't have been that fast," a male voice said.

"He was in a moving land vehicle," an older, raspier voice replied.

"You took the car too?!" the younger one yelled.

"You would like it. It's one of those topless models."

"Oh man, you got a convertible! I gotta see this thing. Where did you park it?"

"It's docked in the cargo hold. I’mma gonna go tell Bav-mek when to expect you.”

Steve took a peek and saw the younger one approach him. He quickly closed his eyes again.

"So how do you think I should transport him?” the younger one asked, “Damnit Yondu, why is he tied directly to the pole? How many times do I have to tell you guys, tie the wrists together, then tie them to the pole. Now I have to untie him and re-tie him and hopefully he doesn’t wake up in the meantime."

“I gave him twice the Terran dosage of sedatives. You’ll figure it out; you always do,” Yondu said followed by the swoosh sound of the door again. The older one must have left the room. 

Steve began to feel the pressure relieve around his ankles. Then he felt the ties around his wrists give. Sensing an opportunity, Steve opened his eyes, pulled free from the remaining ties and tackled the other guy to the ground. The other guy rolled them both over, standing up. Steve got up and threw a punch but missed.

“Whoa, whoa,” the guy, wearing a red coat, said as he ducked and moved to Steve’s left side. “Look dude, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“No, you’re trying to trade me in for a case of whiskey,” Steve said, grabbing the rope that was still around his wrists and put the other guy into a choke hold. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

“The name is Star-Lord,” he said, “and I’m just a messenger. Well, I guess...delivery guy.”

“What kind of name is Star-Lord? Lord of the stars? Do you have powers? What realm are we in?” Steve questioned.

“Realm? Man, you’ve been hanging out with those Asgardians, haven’t you?” Star-Lord said, “And yes, I am lord of the stars. Star. Lord. My given name was Peter Quill. I don’t go by that anymore. Look, if you let me go, maybe we can negotiate something.”

“No. Take me back to Earth,” Steve said.

“I...I can’t,” Peter said quietly. “I...don’t know how to get back.”

Steve did not expect that response. He had a flashback of being in the plane, diving into the ocean. A slight sense of hopelessness came over him and he loosened his grip on the rope. He felt a slight jolt and blacked out.

Steve woke up in the back seat of the Corvette. He tried to move but quickly realized that he was belted in and his wrists were tied together again, this time, in front of him to the passenger seat headrest.

“Oh hey, you’re awake,” Peter said. “You hungry? I made you a sandwich. It’s kinda like a crunchy pb and j, cuz really, there’s no other kind, am I right?”

“Actually, I’m more of a smooth guy,” Steve said.

“You need a better fake ID, Steven G. Rogers from New York,” Peter said, reading Steve’s license, “I haven’t done math in a while, but there’s no way you were born in 1918.” Peter was going through the trunk. “Hey, this ride is awesome. Does she have a name? These cassettes are clutch!”

“They’re not mine. The car, her name is Betty, belongs to my--friend, and she won’t be too happy when she finds out it’s missing,” Steve said. “And I have no idea what cassettes are.”

“Lady ‘friend’, huh? Yeah, I know how that goes. ‘Borrow’ a girl’s ride for a few days...weeks...months and she goes all space cop on you. Dude, Michael Jackson!” Peter exclaimed.

“He’s dead, from what I understand,” Steve said.

“What?!” Peter said, “Are you just saying things to upset me?”

“No. That’s just what I was told. When was the last time you were on Earth?” Steve asked.

“1988,” Peter said.

“Well, it’s 2015 now, or at least it was when you guys took me, so you’ve missed about twenty-seven years, which isn’t too bad,” Steve said. “I think I’ll take that sandwich now, if you don’t mind.” Peter wedged the sandwich between Steve’s hands, careful not to get any jam on the upholstery. “Where are you from, Star-Lord?”

“Missouri,” Peter responded quietly.

Steve had no idea how long he had been gone, but he was famished. He was hesitant to eat the sandwich, but he figured it wouldn’t kill him. They needed him alive. “May I have some water?”

“No water in these parts. We drink beer,” Peter brought a bottle up to Steve’s mouth.

Steve reluctantly took a few sips, “Oh, that’s vile. That’s not beer. Even Bud Light tastes better than that.” He was reminded of all the good food and drink he had consumed in the last few days and a sudden feeling of homesickness came over him.

"This is an awesome Halloween costume! Captain America!"

"Careful with that, please."

"I wonder if it would fit me... I used to love Captain America when I was a kid! Oh man, you even have the shield! Wow, this is a really good shield. Did you buy this or did you make it?" Peter wielded the shield around.

"An old friend made it."

"Man, this is really good handiwork! Oh man, I used to love the Captain America comics. I vaguely remember a tv show too and hey, the original captain's name is Steve too! Steve Rogers..."

"That's the name, don't wear it out," Steve mumbled between chews.

"Is that really your name? I thought that was a fake ID. So this is kind of like a self-fulfilling prophecy or something."

"Something like that," Steve said.

"Super soldier..." Star-Lord’s eyes popped wide open, "and the Kree wants you... you're THE Steve Rogers. You’re Captain America!"

Steve gave him a ‘took you long enough’ look.

"What?! How is this possible?! You died in World War II. Your plane went down and...they never found the body..."

"They found me a few years ago. I was frozen in stasis."

"So you’re like a hundred years old!"

"Ninety-six, but who’s counting? Actually, according to the lovely lady who owns this car, I'm only about twenty-nine, give or take, because I didn't have any life experiences during those sixty-six years that I was out. Age is just a number really."

"THE Captain America...Wow. You were gone for seventy years?!"

“Look, I really wasn’t kidding about the car and the girl,” Steve said, “She will be livid and I really don’t want to be in the doghouse for this. Can you please just take me back?”

“I told you, I don’t know how,” Peter said.

“There must be some kind of GPS on this spaceship, right? Those guys knew where to find me. They must know how to get back,” Steve said. “Can’t you just punch some coordinates in and set it to automatic or something? Can you call someone?”

“We are in the middle of nowhere in space. Who you gonna call?! Ghostbusters?!” Peter yelled.

“I understood that reference!” Steve nodded proudly.

“No, you don’t understand! I can’t go back,” Peter yelled and stormed out of the room.

Steve took the opportunity to pull out the headrest and free himself from the car. He untied his legs and almost his hands free when the door reopened.


	5. Chapter 5

Peter stormed back onto the deck with his gun set to taser. He hit Steve Rogers with it before the man could react. He was pissed. Pissed at Yondu for dragging him into this, pissed at the whiskey headache throbbing in his head, and mostly pissed at himself for talking to the captive like a person just to hear more about what had happened on Earth since he had left. He didn’t even know what to do with the revelation that the captive was Steven Fucking Rogers, war hero, super soldier and perhaps…immortal? But it didn’t matter right now. There was a three day haul to Hala, and he would think more clearly with some distance from Yondu and the Eclector, and with some time for his hangover to clear up. Maybe he’d even put a call into Gamora. She wouldn’t know who Steve was or why he was important, but she understood the realities of working for dangerous people, and she was the only one in the galaxy who knew what it was like to stand against that type of people when they hand raised you.

Moving quickly, Peter opened the car door. He re-tied Steve’s hands and ankles and unbuckled the seatbelt. He rolled over a flat cart with a tall handle up to the car and leaned over it, seizing the limp Steve under the armpits. He pulled the other man toward him, letting gravity help move him out of the car as he rolled him onto the cart. His legs thunked down onto the cart as Peter caught the weight of Steve’s torso and gently laid his chest and head on the cart. After thinking about it for a minute, Peter threw the tactical suit and shield on top of Steve’s limp body. Stuffing some of the cassettes from the car into the pockets of his jacket, Peter grabbed the cart and headed for the elevator.

Yondu was waiting on the flight deck next to Peter’s ship, The Milano. 

“What’d ya taking that stuff for?” Yondu wanted to know, looking at the shield. 

“I think I’ll need it to authenticate the captive.” Peter gave him a level look. “I recognized this Terran from a legend when I was a boy. But you know those Kree assholes, they think all us pink people look the same. This will help them match it up to their surveillance. I want the car too.”

“You have to bid for it if you want that Terran land vehicle. You know that Terran artifacts fetch a pretty penny at auction. Now boy, I loaded the coordinates of the drop on Hala into your flight computer. It’s a loading dock in their Scientific Development complex. You also have certifications loaded for you to read as a cargo ship, provided by Bav-mek. It should get you in and out of Kree flight space if you fly like a cargo ship. Don’t do anything suspicious and you should be fine. Don’t transfer the prisoner until I signal you the payment has come through.” Yondu looked at him like he was measuring him. It was the same look he had gotten since he was abducted, and Peter didn’t enjoy it.

“No worries, Yondu, I’ll get him there.” Peter said easily. 

“You see that you do, Peter. And then I won’t have to have the fleet hunt you and that green girl to the end of the galaxy.” Yondu turned and walked toward the elevator, having secured the last word.

Peter hauled the cart onboard, dumped Steve in a bunk, and secured him. He piloted the Milano out from the Eclector, set up the autopilot for the drop sight, and fell into his own bunk. He’d be better able to deal with reality when his hangover was gone.

It was only a couple hours later when he was woken by yelling. He finally pried his eyes open to see Steve struggling against his restraints in the opposite bunk. 

“What’s the problem, bro?” Peter asked, sitting up carefully.

“I have to relieve myself.” Peter rolled his eyes at Steve, still pulling on his restraints like he could break them himself.

“Fine.” Peter rolled out of his bunk and retrieved his blaster. He set it to stun before walking over to Steve’s bunk and pressing it against his neck. With his off hand, he untied Steve, walked him to the head, and resecured him inside the tiny room. He gave him about two feet of slack, and then backed out. Before he closed the door, he threw a bundle into his captive’s arms. “The head is an interior space. You can rip out my plumbing, but all that means is that we’ll be shitting in a bucket for the rest of the ride. There’s a towel and a change of clothes there. Get clean, you have fifteen minutes.” Peter hit a button, slamming the door on Steve’s protests. While the man showered, he made some coffee, and after a second thought, poured himself a little hair of the dog. It couldn’t hurt. He decided not to call Gamora. She and the other Guardians were enjoying some well deserved downtime on Knowhere. This would make a better story once he figured out how to get the best of the Kree and Yondu himself. 

He had two plates in the rehydrator by the time the shower cut off, three minutes after that he rapped on the head door. “Two minute warning!” he called. His whiskey was finished by then and he contemplated pouring another, but his headache was gone. Instead he poured juice and then hit the button for the head door. Steve had his pants on - Peter had given him his own clothes, as they were close in size - and was pulling a shirt on over his free arm. Peter stepped into the head and pressed his gun back into Steve’s neck and released his bonds so he could shrug his other arm into the shirt. 

Minutes later, they were both seated in the galley, shoveling rehydrated food into their mouths. Steve’s off arm was restrained, hooked to the table, as were his ankles. Unencumbered, Peter finished his food first and sat back to watch as Steve finished his meal.

“You’ve probably realized by now, Steve, that you’re in deep shit.” Steve rolled his eyes at the younger man.

“The whole abducted into outer space thing got that message across. But you wouldn’t be talking to me if you didn’t want something.”

“You’ve been sold to the Kree, Rogers. I don’t think you’ve dealt with them before?” Steve shook his head slowly. “Well, they aren’t so different from some Earth people, besides being blue. I could go into the whole history, but long story short is that they basically think might means right. You’re a prime specimen. I don’t know what exactly they want you for, but given your personal history…I suspect they want to cut you open and see what makes you tick. To see if it can be used to their advantage some how. That’s how they think…they aren’t against killing one or hundreds if it fulfills their goals.” Peter eyed the other man. 

“You don’t have to convince me, son. You know I want to go back to Earth. What are you trying to talk me into, exactly?” Steve kept eating. The food was bland, but it was food, and he was starving.

“I’m not your son. I don’t know how much of our conversation you overheard,” Peter said. “But Yondu has to get paid. Or it’s my neck on the line.”

“You don’t strike me as the type who sticks his neck out for others,” Steve remarked, swigging his juice. Peter flinched. He got up, walked over to his bunk, and pushed a button. Music filled the galley of the Milano. “Like a worn out recording, of a favorite song…” Peter took a deep breath. 

“Most of the time out here in the black, it’s every man for himself,” Peter said. “Not always…sometimes agreements can be reached. I don’t really want to be responsible for Captain Fucking America getting cut into pieces by a ruthless alien race, but I don’t want to die either. You have to be in their custody until the payment goes through. After that…anything can happen.” He looked straight into the eyes of the other man. “After that lies an opportunity. If you’re willing to work with me.” Steve looked back at the man, and then down at his plate. Peter waited. Eventually the other man looked back at him.

“I don’t see where I have any other option,” he said. “How do you suggest I get free after you hand me over?”


	6. Chapter 6

The Milano docked onto the Kree Scientific Development complex’s cargo deck. The hatch opened and Peter walked out, rolling an unconscious Captain America on a stretcher. The Captain’s hands were restrained behind his back, his shield at his knees. Peter thought it would help the authentication process if Captain just showed up in full regalia; he had grabbed the suit from the car, after all. Peter hoped they didn’t pay too much attention to the mask on Cap’s face.

_“So this is what we’ll do,” Peter said. “My mask is connected to the electronics in my bracer. When they roll you in, even if they drug you up, I will be able to track exactly where you are in the complex. I’ll come in and bail you out after they transfer the funds.”_

_“It’s better than just brute forcing our way out, I guess,” Steve said hesitantly._

“Star-Lord,” Jul-Sarr greeted. She walked up to the Captain and ran her hand down his body. “This is the super Terran specimen?” Peter nodded in acknowledgment. “Take him,” she commanded two other Krees behind her.

Peter put his arm out, blocking them. “Funds first,” he said.

Bav-mek showed up behind the Milano with about ten other Kree soldier-looking types, completely blocking the entrance.

“So this is how it’s going to go down?” Peter asked.

“Just some security. You can leave when we have the Terran in our possession,” Jul-Sarr asked. “What was he sedated with?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. He’ll be out for a while,” Peter answered. He looked around and took note of all the possible exits. There were three doorways, all guarded by three Kree each. That’s another ten on the deck with them. He wondered how long it would take for reinforcements to show up and if there were any others on the other side of those doors.

They stood there in silence for what seemed like eternity. Jul-Sar would occasionally walk up to the Captain to check that he was still unconscious. Then she sized him up and considered the best methods for extracting the molecular information that she needed. She was holding what looked like some surgical device.

“Are you going to cut him open?” Peter asked.

“I will take some surface DNA to authenticate this Terran,” Jul-Sarr said.

“No cuts,” Peter said.

“You know, you are a pretty fine specimen of a combatant Terran too,” she said. She swiped the device over the only exposed skin on the Captain, his neck. It tickled and Steve suppressed every urge to recoil. “Perhaps we should study you as well.”

“No offense, lady,” Peter said, “but over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” she replied. “This test will take about an hour.”

“I don’t leave until the funds are confirmed,” he said, granted, he already had one foot touching the Milano.

Some more time go by in absolute silence.

“Mind if I put some music on? This silence is getting to me,” Peter said. He reached into his pocket and fumbled with the tapes that were in the Captain’s car. He randomly grabbed one and popped it into the Walkman. “Aaaat laaaast, my love has come along…”

“Hey, I know this one,” Peter said to himself, “do you dance?” He swayed back and forth, slow-dancing with the air. The Kree stared at him in disgust.

“He must have something wrong,” Bav-mek said to the Kree standing next to him and gestured towards his head, “maybe dropped as a youngling.”

A Kree walked through one of the doors and handed Jul-Sarr a tablet.

“It has been confirmed that this Terran has more than just Terran DNA in him. Commence transfer of funds,” Jul-Sarr said. Bav-mek gestured to one of the other Kree.

Yondu’s hologram projected from Peter’s forearm.

“Peter, we’re square,” Yondu said. Peter nodded and turned off the communicator.

The tape got to the end, so Peter grabbed another labeled ‘Early 2000s’. “Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah…yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah...I think I did it again...”

“What is this atrocity?!” Bav-mek screeched, covering his ears. The other male Kree fell to their knees and covered their ears, screaming in pain.

“This is an assault!” another Kree cried. They lunged towards Peter, weapons in hand.

Sensing danger, Steve opened his eyes and jumped out of the transport device in one motion. His hands, which were behind his back, concealed a phaser which he liberally unloaded right now. He picked up the shield and deflected several phasers aimed towards him.

“What is this...treachery?!” Jul-Sarr screamed. “Get them both! ALIVE!”

Peter’s second blaster made short work of most of them, but they were disciplined and organized. Two got around behind him as he took out the others and rushed him, knocking the weapon from his hands. He felt his legs sweep out from under him by one of his opponents, and he turned his fall into a roll, moving away from them and up onto his feet. Before he knew it, they pressed their attack, one trying to sweep his legs again and the other aiming a fist at his face. 

Steve jumped a sweep attack, moving forward into the reach of the second opponent. He turned as he did so, hoping to miss the punch while he dodged inside the taller Kree’s reach. He didn’t move quickly enough and took the blow to his left pectoral while bringing his own fist up against the jaw of the taller Kree. The Kree’s head snapped back with a sickening and final snap. The Kree were much stronger than human, maybe even a little stronger than himself, and the blow on his chest felt like a sledgehammer, spinning him around as it drove the breath from his chest. Steve gasped as he fell right on his ass next to the dead Kree. In a blink he was dragged upright by the first Kree. Still gasping, Steve brought his feet up, and kicked at the Kree’s solar plexus. This knocked the Kree away from him and ripped his suit out of his grasp, but it resulted in Steve landing on his ass for the second time in under 30 seconds. This time the Kree leaned over him, driving his fist towards Steve’s face, so he rolled, wincing when the pavement cracked under the big blue meat hammer. Steve kicked again, snapping the Kree’s head back, not killing this time but stunning him. He took advantage of the few extra seconds to get to his feet and got one, two, three blows in. The Kree finally collapsed to the ground. Steve turned, looking for Peter, and came face-to-face with Bav-mek, who had Peter’s blaster. Glancing around, he saw that Peter was in a similar stand-off with Jul-Sarr.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter stood swaying on his feet. He had been stunning Kree with his blaster left and right, until the only one that was left was the female in the lab coat. He went to shoot her too, and suddenly got very distracted as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, exposing her bare neck. It made such a pretty line down to the curve of her shoulder, which led to her elbow and then to her hand placed on her hip. His mouth went dry and his pants suddenly felt two sizes too small. He knew he should shoot her anyway, but as the seconds ticked by he felt his resolve wane and his arm lowered the blaster almost of its own volition. Jul-Sarr walked up to him very slowly, shifting her hips as she did so. Peter watched, mesmerized. Dimly, he heard other voices.

“Jul-Sarr…? What are you doing?” Bav-mek asked.

“Merely subduing this Terran. Now we have two Terrans with to dissect. Have you got that one under control?” She reached Peter as he began to strip out of the duster. His whole world had shrunk down to the woman in front of him, and he needed to have her.

“Quill…?” Steve shouted. “What are you doing?! Take her out!” Peter ignored this and drew Jul-Sarr to him. He had a t-shirt and boxers on, but he could still feel the heat of her as he pressed his lips against hers. Kissing her felt like going outside in space without his mask, like his breath was being sucked right out of his lungs. But he liked it…until everything went dark.

Peter woke up, his head pounding like he had tested another bottle of whiskey with Yondu. He was exhausted, as if he had been up for days. He was sitting on the floor, and his wrists were cuffed at his back…to another person. “Wha duh?” he looked around, jerking his wrists against the other person. They were in a small dark room only illuminated by a dim red light coming from a panel on the door.

“Oh, good, you’re up.” It was Steve’s voice at his back. Peter was relieved for a moment, and then he was pissed.

“Wha ‘appened?” Peter slurred.

“I heard Bav-Mek accuse Jul-Sarr of being a ‘succubus’ and it means the same thing here as it does on Earth. Son, if you’re going to be a superhero, you’re going to have to learn to control your urges. Although, I think your helmet saved me from her seductive ways. Must involve an airborne contaminant - pheromones?”

“Succubus--it’s one ability the Kree have been actively trying to reduce in their population, but I guess she dodged the test somehow. That explains why I feel like shit, I guess. How long was I out?” Peter asked, shaking his head.

“About an hour, I think. I still haven’t gotten a hang of time passage in space yet,” Steve said. “You went out, they stripped us down to our skivvies, granted, you needed no help. We both got poked a bunch of times, and they dumped us in here. At least they left our shoes on. This floor is cold.”

“You didn’t get used to the cold being frozen for seventy years? Here is where? Be specific. Where is this room in relation to the cargo deck where the Milano is?”

“We walked 400 meters down a white hall from the door to the deck. We took the third left and walked 50 meters, entered a locked subsection and then walked 100 meters more. There’s a lab next door; that’s where they stuck us with the needles, and where I last saw our gear. I think they were going to try and move your ship from the cargo dock. Something about not wanting to draw attention?”

“They’ll find it harder to move my baby than they think.” Quill said. “I programmed her for lockdown. She won’t fly for anyone but me unless they crack the code or get a larger ship to physically tow it away, which would probably attract more attention.” He was tugging at their bindings as he explained this.

“Would you stop that!?” Steve said, annoyed. “I already tried to break our bonds. We’re stuck together.”

“I might have something that can help in my boots,” Peter said. He toed off his left boot and used his foot to sweep it back up towards his hip. “Let’s turn a little to my left so I can grab it.” They scooched until his fingers brushed the top of the boot. He pulled it closer and ran his fingers around the inside of the top until he found the little pocket. Carefully, he drew out a short dowel, about an inch and a half in length. “You’re going to have to hold still. I’m probably still going to nick us both with this laser. It’s very short so it won’t cut you too deep but it will hurt. And don’t go yelling, we don’t need to be discovered before we get free.” Steve took a deep breath but otherwise said nothing. 

Peter began to cut. Every time he heard Steve wince he tried to draw the laser back some but still cut the cuff. The smell of burning skin filled the small room, as the laser cauterized while it cut. Finally he got one hand free and was able to turn, and cut them free the rest of the way with no further damage. They looked at their hands. Peter had a pretty good burn on his left wrist, and Steve had a couple marks on the back of his right hand, but they were loose...inside a locked room.

Jul-Sarr repressed a gleeful cackle as the results came in. She had started with non-invasive sampling: blood, skin tissue, hair. Compared to normal Terran readings from the database, every measurable component was off the charts in both subjects. Subject A had markers of being exposed to some strange kind of radiation, and Subject B had been exposed to abnormally high levels of cosmic radiation for a Terran. That was consistent with most interstellar travelers, but maybe there was something unique in Terran biology that reacted with radiation to produce superior specimens. She made a note to research radiation + Terrans in a bit. The skin showed signs of both advanced cellular division and more accurate division, with less genetic degradation than was recorded for typical Terrans. She presumed this meant they would heal more rapidly than the average Terran and would live longer. That would indeed be a key factor for any Terran enhancement; they were so weak and easily injured. Both had abnormally robust and elevated numbers of red and white blood cells, which clearly boosted their speed and health. She should take a bone marrow sample next, to try to determine what was producing it. That was going to be a painful retrieval. It would, however, allow her the opportunity to measure their bodies’ reactions to pain and stress, but wouldn’t be fatal. Well, maybe she should try her special submission tactics on the yellow-headed one first. She wasn’t quite sure why Subject A hadn’t reacted in the first place, but maybe he had been too far away. If she strapped them both down side by side in beta lab, she could measure both their responses while she did her thing, then harvest some marrow. Yes, those were the next steps, she decided. Didn’t want to kill off her shiny new lab orloni too quickly. Looking at the clock, she decided the previous effects should have worn off by now, as well as the alcohol that had been present in Subject B’s system. She called for two orderlies to help maneuver them into beta lab, and then shut off the cameras in her lab block. It was bad enough she was going to have to bribe Bav-mek to prevent him from revealing her succubus abilities. She hadn’t spent her whole life hiding and cultivating them just to have them recorded. 

She thought about how incompetent Bav-mek was, how it was his fault everything went awry on the loading dock, forcing her to unleash her forbidden powers. She was probably going to have to kill him. He was so incompetent; no matter how well she bribed him, he might let it slip anyway. The Kree government had spent a lot of time and energy removing the succubus abilities from most of the population. They’d come for her, if it got out. She should probably go do that right now, actually. It shouldn’t take much longer than the time it took for the orderlies to get her subjects set up. Carefully she prepared a syringe of one of her more deadly side projects: a microorganism that would kill swiftly and look like a mere infection, but could not survive out of its growth medium or a Kree body.


	8. Chapter 8

“Of course the door is locked from the outside,” Peter said as he tried to open the door.

“I’ve been studying the potential exits,” Steve said. “There’s a ventilation shaft there that should connect to the lab next door. We can grab our gear and then make our way out. I overheard one of them saying that you have superhuman DNA too.”

“Their test was probably a fluke. Who knows what they test for anyway? For all we know, they’re comparing their results to actual lab rats,” Peter dismissed Steve’s comment.

Steve looked at the ventilation shaft, took two steps back, parkoured off one wall and reached the grate on the ceiling. He swung a few times until the grate gave under his weight, dropping him back to the ground. Peter looked up at the emptiness. “After you, Captain.” Peter gave Steve a boost into the shaft. There was plenty of room for an easy crawl up there. Steve turned back and pulled Peter up and they army-crawled side by side. “Go slow, in case this material won’t support both our weight,” Steve cautioned.

“Well, if someone didn’t have such a big breakfast, maybe we wouldn’t have to worry,” Peter said.

Steve looked at him indignantly. “Don’t you dare talk about food at this time. What I wouldn’t give for a--” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“For a what?” Peter asked, slowly inching ahead of Steve.

“A piece of homemade bourbon pecan pie,” Steve muttered. He didn’t want to admit that food had such a power over him, and it usually doesn’t, but he felt really homesick all of a sudden.

“Bourbon AND pecan pie?! That sounds amazing!” Peter whispered loudly.

“She is pretty amazing,” Steve uttered.

“Is this Betty's owner?” Peter said.

“Huh?” Steve looked up, slightly dazed.

“You said ‘she’. We were talking about pie. I’m assuming she bakes this awesome dessert.”

“Yeah, same girl.” They see a faint light not too far down the ventilation shaft and picked up their pace.

“I found a picture of you two in the glove compartment. She’s a doll. Awesome ride, awesome food--”

“Throws knives like a ninja assassin,” Steve smiled. “She’s got a tattoo of my shield on her left hip.”

Peter turned to face him, “Steve, my man, if you ever fuck that relationship up, she’s mine. I will come back to Earth and take this girl and give her the space goddess treatment that she deserves.”

The two got to the next grate and saw an empty lab below them. Peter gently slid the grate off and placed it in the shaft. He slid down into the room and rolled off to one side. Steve followed. The two grabbed their respective gear and quickly got dressed. Peter opened the door to the lab and looked down the hallway. There were two Kree standing in front of the room that they were just in. He turned to Steve and nodded.

Steve slid out and swiped at one of the Kree’s legs with his shield, knocking him down to the ground. The second Kree charged him and Steve turned and ran, stopping just a few feet after the lab door. As the charging Kree went past the door, Peter hit him with his quad blaster, causing him to fall right at Steve’s feet. Peter came out of the door shooting at the first Kree, who had only been momentarily distracted. As he fell, several other Kree bolted down the hall to see what the commotion was. Steve threw his shield like a frisbee and knocked two of them in the face as Peter trained his quad blasters on the others. 

Jul-Sarr got to the hallway just as Peter shot the last Kree to the ground. She stared intently at the both of them and held her arm out seductively, using her Succubus charm. Steve’s legs gave a little; he dropped down to one knee and closed his eyes. Peter shook his head behind his mask, “Not this time, lady.” He adjusted his quad blaster setting to “lethal” and let her have it.

“How’d you do that? How’d you resist her?” Peter asked as they ran down the hall. 

“I prayed,” Steve said. “And held my breath.” They were bolting down the hall so quickly they almost tripped over the corpse of Bav-mek, barely recognizable as it was swelling and turning purple. 

“That’s very tidy,” Peter commented. Steve shook his head and ripped the door to the cargo deck open. The Milano was still there, the cargo deck fortunately deserted. 

Peter and Steve did shots while listening to all the cassettes on the way back to the Eclector.

“So this Britney Spears person seems to be the Kree’s downfall,” Peter said.

“Spears? Sounds like a warrior,” Steve said. “Here, I want you to have this--to remember me by,” Steve handed Peter the his Captain cowl.

“Are you sure?” Peter said. “But what will you wear?”

“I have a few back home.”

“Thanks, man!” Peter slammed down another shot, “And I have just the parting gift for you. Let’s go get the car back. When you screw things up with your girl, I don’t want you blaming it on me.”


	9. Chapter 9

The Milano pulled into its usual spot on the Eclector. Peter and Steve hopped out and looked around. It was awfully quiet. The other ships were all there, so the guys hadn’t left on a job. All of a sudden, there was a roar of laughter from down the hall. They followed the commotion to the cargo area and approached cautiously. Peering in, Peter and Steve saw several Ravagers shooting at Betty. Yondu was in the driver’s seat, restrained by some rubbery material.

“Help me out of this and you can have this damn Terran vehicle!” Yondu yelled at his men.

“What did you get yourself into this time?” Peter asked, trying not to laugh. Steve was looking at the car in puzzlement. He didn’t know it could do that. 

“Peter!” Yondu growled. “And the Terran package? What have you been up to?” Yondu looked surprised and disdained at the same time.

“You got your money, right? Don’t worry about it. The clients are dead, neat as you please.” Peter said. “So if we can get you out of this, we get the car for free?”

“I didn’t know you had it in you still, Peter.“ Yondu looked almost impressed. “Yes, get me out of this damn contraption and get it off my ship!” 

Peter looked around the car for a disable switch. Steve stepped up to the car, gently patted Betty on the steering wheel, and whispered “Good job, girl.” The restrains loosened and retracted back into the crevices of the seat cushions. 

“How did you do that?” Peter whispered.

“Not a clue,” Steve replied, just as surprised as Peter was.

Yondu jumped out of the car, “Blah! You can have your Terran vehicle and your Terran too! Get all of this out of my sight!” The Ravagers laughed Yondu all the way out of the cargo area.

“Captain Rogers. Do you require medical assistance?” a female robotic voice asked.

Steve looked around and then looked down at the car, “Betty?!”

“DUDE! She’s like Kit from Knight Rider!” Peter said. “I love this car!”

“Captain Rogers, your blood on the steering wheel activated my A.I. Do you require medical assistance?” Betty asked again.

“Probably,” Steve said. “But let’s take care of something more important first. Can you take us home? Back to Earth?”

"If someone can get us to this point on the map,” a hologram projection came out of the steering wheel, “my exterior should be able to withstand re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere."

“Have you been sentient all this time?” Peter asked.

“Yes,” Betty replied. “But I am programmed to only interfere if there is a life or death situation.”

"You really think your shell will be able to hold up to the radiation?" Steve asked.

"I have a very thin coat of vibranium mixed with adamantium. It was a gift from Mr. Stark to Agent Coulson when Agent Coulson asked him to ‘trick out’ this car,” she said.

“And the artificial intelligence?” Steve asked.

“It was JARVIS’ idea,” she replied.

“Of course it was.”

“I am setting auto piloting measures to return us to the point of our abduction. I am shutting my voice control down to conserve power. When we get back, activate my homing beacon and SHIELD agents will find us.”

“Well, Peter?” Steve turned to his new friend.

“She’ll just fit on the cargo deck of the Milano,” Peter said. “You’ll need a respirator though. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

They had killed another bottle of Peter’s excellent whiskey before they reached the drop off point. Peter wasn’t as immune to alcohol as Steve was, but he was still sober enough to explain to Steve how to work the respirator that would cover his entire head. With his tactical suit, Steve figured he’d be sufficiently protected from cold and airless space until atmospheric re-entry.

“Well, if you ever come back to visit, look me up,” Steve said. The other man was suddenly avoiding meeting his eyes.

“Don’t know why I’d want to do that,” Peter said. “I have endless worlds to explore and numerous alien ladies to romance out here. But if something unfortunate enough happens that I have to return to Earth, you’ll be the first person I look up.”

“I hope you do,” Steve said. “I have some favors to return. Like making you drink the shittiest beer I can find.” Peter laughed and slapped his shoulder. Steve grinned in return and fit on the respirator. After he got it turned on, Peter gave him a thumbs up, and Steve climbed into the car as Peter headed up to the flight deck to open the cargo door.

Betty drifted away from the Milano and was caught in the gravitational pull of the big, blue sphere below them. Steve watched the ship engage its engines in the rear view mirror, and when it vanished into the darkness he turned to watch Earth rush up…until the friction of re-entry covered the outside of Betty in flames.


	10. Chapter 10

Betty’s flight system engaged long before they approached the Earth’s surface. Steve landed in the same stretch of desert road where he had been abducted. He could tell that SHIELD had been looking for him by the slight disturbance in the sand in the surrounding areas. The dash told him Betty was just about out of fuel after that drop through the atmosphere. He saw a pay phone about a hundred meters away, but he wouldn’t even know who to call. Tony? Natasha? He couldn’t call Coulson; he’s supposed to be dead. He looked down at Betty’s console and hit the button with a picture of a house, activating the homing beacon she spoke of earlier.

He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. Judging by a slight glow on the eastern horizon, it would be daylight soon. He closed his eyes and and breathed out slowly.

Within an hour, the jet descended down and picked up Steve and what was left of Betty.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Natasha said.

“You should see the other guy,” Steve said.

“We’re glad to have you back, Captain,” Coulson said.

“You and me, both, Coulson. Hey, you have your phone on you?” Steve asked. Coulson, confused, handed his phone over. Steve took a selfie with the sunrise behind him. “Send that to her. Tell her Betty made it back too...just go easy on the details. And here’s the artifact. I hope you get the information you need.” Steve took the pillbox from his pocket and handed it over to Coulson.

“So you’re not going to tell us where you’ve been?” Natasha asked. Steve laughed. It sounded like she suspected him of pulling a disappearing act just for the hell of it.

“You won’t believe this,” he said. “But I was abducted by aliens.” Natasha just raised an eyebrow at him.

“That’s only slightly weirder than being asleep under the ice for 70 years, Steve.”

Jemma was on board and administered medical aid. “We need to get him back. The jet doesn’t have the right equipment to assess his condition. I gave him some painkillers for the ride. He should fall asleep soon.”

Steve woke up and recognized the medical room of the Hub. Machines beeped and buzzed around him.

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Jemma said, “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Steve said, “famished.”

“Ah, we’ve got just what the doctor ordered,” Jemma said. “Here is some water,” she handed him a glass. “And here’s some homemade chicken noodle soup.” She placed a steaming bowl on the table next to him. Just the smell of the soup gave him some comfort.

“Compliments to the chef,” Steve said.

“I’ll pass it along to Koenig,” Jemma nodded.

“Koenig? Where is...?” he asked.

“Lillian got sent on a mission off base,” Jemma said. “You shouldn’t worry too much about things other than resting and healing, Captain.” Jemma checked some of the readings on the machines.

“How long have I been gone?” Steve asked.

“Since they lost your signal, you were gone for exactly one week,” Jemma said. “And you’ve been out two days since we’ve picked you up in the desert.”

“Seven days…” Steve repeated to himself. “I guess it could have been worse. Still beats seventy years.”

A few more days passed by before Steve felt like his old post-thaw self again. He walked around the Hub aimlessly and found himself in front of Lillian’s door. He punched his birthday into the keypad and the door swooshed open. All the furniture was where he remembered it, but a lot of the decor had been taken down. The pictures and notes of Winter Soldier had been removed, but there was a manila envelope tacked to the center of the board with “Steve” written on it. He took it down from the board and opened it. Inside, there was a handwritten note:

“In the off chance that you find your way here, attached are the last leads I have for Bucky. I think he’s in the states, possibly east coast. Hopefully, you will get back in time to catch up with him. Yours forever and always, Lillian”

“Where’d Captain America learn how to pick electronic locks? Nazi Germany?” Natasha said, leaning against the door frame.

“How long have you been standing there?” Steve asked.

“Long enough to know that looks important to you,” she replied. “The jet is going to leave in a few hours. You should get packing. Agents will meet you at Stark Tower.”

"What agents? There are still agents out there?!”

"There are still operations. Not all the agents got called back after the HYDRA incident. Maria Hill will have more info."

"What about you?"

"I have to deliver these artifacts to the right hands, round up Banner, and then I'll meet back up with you guys. Sam is still dealing with his family stuff. He will be absent a couple more months."

Steve nodded solemnly.

"You're going back home, to New York."

"Yeah, ‘home’."

"Home is where the heart is, Steve."

Steve looked down at the files in his hands and nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Read the prequel here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146027


End file.
